


October 16th, 2016

by IMAgentMI



Series: October Microfic-a-Day Project [16]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8302370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMAgentMI/pseuds/IMAgentMI
Summary: It's the day after news of Epsilon's fate reached Wash and Carolina.  The wound is fresh for one, but for the other, it never went away.
For Legendaerie, with my thanks for so much.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Legendaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendaerie/gifts).



Wash dragged a hand down his face, as though he could somehow slough away the memory of nightmares, or the exhaustion that rode like a lead weight in his forehead. He walked two and three steps at a time blind, eyes closed in denial of the morning. The hallway seemed to stretch miles ahead of him and it still seemed too short. This was a day he didn’t want to face, a reality he wished he could scrub away. And yet life went on.

His eyes were closed when he heard it. He stopped dead in his tracks, opened his eyes long enough to confirm where he was, then closed them again as his stomach clenched. His head dropped forward to his chest when he heard it again. He reached out with one hand and steadied himself against the wall outside Carolina’s quarters, listening to the impossible sound of her weeping.

Long after the wound in his head had healed, the ache of Epsilon’s extraction lingered. The pain stayed raw, and even finding him alive had offered no easement. This second loss ripped him open afresh, and he stood there in the hallway, Carolina’s muffled sobbing resonating with his own grief. And yet nothing on earth could force him to open that door. There were no words of comfort that would mean anything, nothing he could do or say that would make this easier for either of them. So he stood there, listening, and hated himself for it.

Wash’s head jerked up - he could hear footsteps, voices further down the hallway. With one hand he slammed his helmet on his head, pulled his rifle around on its strap, holding it ready in his hands. Wash stood with his back to the door, staring straight ahead. 

He couldn’t see them until they stopped right in front of him - two New Republic soldiers who were both afraid to speak up. Eventually one worked up her courage. “Agent Washington?” He didn’t answer. “Agent Washington, General Kimball sent us to get Agent Carolina.”

“She’s not available.”

The soldier looked at her partner and tried again. “General Kimball said--”

“Agent Carolina is not available.” He brought his head up slightly, and both soldiers stepped back. They mumbled apologies and left at a trot. 

There was a muffled sound behind him through the door, and then a raw - “Thank you.”

“It’s okay, boss. I’ve got your back.”


End file.
